BITTER
by Elle's Story
Summary: Jeremy finds himself having to start over. (Jeremy/Sophia)
1. Prologue

Matthew: **been thinking bout u all week. I want 2 fuk u so bad, babe**

Star: **I'm home alone all day 2morrow**

Matthew: **can't wait feels like its been a while.**

Star: **its been 2 days.**

Matthew: **2 long 2 not be fuken ur brains out. lol.**


	2. Chapter 1

Jeremy stood at the door, looking into the room. When he'd called Cole to tell him what happened about three hours ago, he'd expected to show up to find maybe a mattress on the floor in a small room. Of course, it was Cole, so it couldn't possibly just be a mattress on the floor.

It was a temple.

There were differently colored sheets that he'd hung from the corners of the room and connected around the fan that hung from the ceiling that resembled a tent.

There were some signs of normalcy, though, but the sheets mostly covered them. Jeremy could only guess they'd been Isabel's personal touch. Cole didn't worry about things like sofas or drawers; he worried about hanging differently colored sheets from the corners of rooms. "My casa, your casa, mis amigos," he heard Cole say as he came to stand beside him at the door. He looked around the room with pride until his eyes settled on the small wooden table with a large candle on it and a bouquet of flowers beside it. If there weren't so many different-colored sheets, he was sure it would have made the room feel welcoming in a "you're a guest" kind of way, not a "drugs and groupies" kind of way. "I tried to get Is to take out those hideous decorations as they clash with my design, but…" Cole shrugged sadly.

"You say something about my decorations?" Jeremy heard Isabel yell angrily from downstairs.

"No, Princess. I love you," Cole answered. Jeremy tried to smile. It seemed like his mouth had been drawn into a permanent frown today, his eyes narrowed angrily. He wasn't used to having that expression on his face and he sure didn't like the way it felt now. He couldn't stop it, though. He wasn't sure he'd even sort-of smiled just now.

"Thanks for this, man," he said, looking Cole in the eye. Cole wasn't the easiest person to show appreciation to if you didn't know what he was like. He grinned his casual grin, the one that had always won over so many cameras, but Jeremy could see in his eyes that there was something more there. He'd figured it out the moment he'd seen the room. The decorations were Cole's acknowledgement that this was a shitty situation. The grin itself was a "you're welcome, anytime."

Jeremy didn't expect him to say anything else. Normally he didn't, but it seemed that being with Isabel had somehow softened his unending anxiety about everything. He was more present than Jeremy had ever witnessed him being. "You can stay for as long as you want, Jeremy. Honestly. I meant what I said."

"Your casa, my casa, mis amigos?" Jeremy asked. Cole grinned again, stepping into the room.

"You, my friend, get to experience the St. Clair experience first hand," Cole declared theatrically, letting him know the moments of reality had ended. Jeremy walked behind him, looking around the room. He was kidding… but he also wasn't kidding. Cole had given him the isolated guest room in the back of the house to stay in, which was basically an small apartment that connected to the rest of the house. There was a small kitchen there and a bathroom, which meant he wouldn't really need to bother Cole and Isabel too much unless he had to leave the house. There were sliding doors here, but they opened up to a small back yard that had a path straight to the pool area.

Jeremy ran a hand through his hair, looking at nothing in particular.

"Way more than enough," he said, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"St. Clair experience, my friend. St. Clair experience," Cole grinned. Jeremy couldn't actually help but smile. "You might have to leave your den to find some food, though. I didn't have any time to go grocery shopping for you, alas. Writing songs and girlfriend pleasing and what not. I leave you to venture out into the world for substance."

"I'll live," Jeremy answered. "I'm not very hungry today anyway."

Cole nodded, patting his back and turning away. "You know where to find me, my friend," was the last thing he said. Jeremy gave him a fake smile and waited for him to disappear to have a look around the room. The kitchen was on the raised floor with a marble, undecorated island counter, beside it the glass sliding doors that led outside to the pool, where he knew a small path led to the beach. He laughed out loud as he lay on the colorful mattress and recalling the house warming party Isabel and Cole had thrown when they'd moved in. The night had ended with everyone naked and in the water, drunk off their asses and making too much noise. He opened the glass doors to let the cool breeze in.

He lie on the mattress and stared at what would be the ceiling if colorful pieces of cloth weren't hanging from it. He breathed evenly, trying to relax himself enough to fall asleep, trying to calm his racing mind, but it was useless. He couldn't stop thinking about Star. The last two years, from the moment he'd met her to the moment he'd left her, kept racing randomly through his mind. He'd loved her truly. He wasn't sure what he felt now, though. It wasn't exactly hate but it was something like it, as close as he'd ever gotten to it, at least. He'd built a life with Star in the two years that Cole had disappeared and NARKOTICA had become nothing but a video of Cole lying on the floor as everyone watched. After that, Jeremy had done what he'd always known to do.

He'd just kept going.

He'd started with a new bad, playing paying gigs here and there. They weren't NARKOTICA but he was playing and able to live comfortably off of it so it'd been fine. Then he'd met Star, brown skinned, long-legged and beautiful. They'd been friends for so long, before they'd become anything else. He thought he'd known her well enough to know that she was the kind of girl who wouldn't cheat on him with someone who couldn't even spell "fuck" or barely hold a bad together.

Jeremy groaned, turning face down onto the pillow. He couldn't afford to get lost in those thoughts anymore. He had to do now what he'd always done: keep going. He'd go get some groceries tomorrow; he didn't want to be a burden to Cole and Isabel, although he was sure that neither of them would mind him mooching off of them. He had to get clothes, too. He'd left everything in the house that was no longer he. He hadn't even given second thought to take anything that belonged to him. It didn't seem right, even now, going back for it. It didn't seem like anything in that house, anything she'd ever touched, belonged to him at all.

His thoughts strayed back to Matthew. It's not that they'd exactly been best friends; even in the new band, the relationship he'd shared with Cole and Victor could never be replicated; but they weren't unfriendly. They knew each other; he'd spent hours in Matthew's garage picking up on their music. They'd never had the strongest players, but they'd worked well. He'd easily overlooked everything that wasn't NARKOTICA about the band. They'd shared drinks and stories and laughter.

When had Star fallen for him? When had she started seeing him?

His mind wandered back to the look on her face when she walked into the room and his eyes had turned to look at her, her phone in his hand like a brick. There was silence. He didn't need to ask the question because she already knew. He'd watched the smile fade away from her face, a look close to shame blurring the usually playful look in her eyes. "Jeremy…" That's all she'd had to say. He'd walked out right then, ignoring her calling after him. He hadn't asked her how long. He hadn't asked her why. He didn't need to. He didn't want to know. Just like that, it was over. Two years. Two fucking years.

He got up and went to the small kitchen, running the sink water and leaning in directly to drink it. He leaned against the counter and looked at the colorful sheets that adorned most of the room. The Cole St. Clair Show, is all that came to mind. He wasn't just part of it now, he'd be living it. He rubbed his jaw. He wouldn't think about it anymore, he told himself. He'd just forget about Star. He'd forget about everything. He'd work with Cole and Leyla, write music…

He'd just forget about everything else.


	3. Chapter 2

He walked through the dark hall that connected where he was staying to the rest of the house, which was left in darkness. The blinds that Isabel had put up had little to do with fashion and a lot to do with privacy in the case that someone got it into their mind to stop by and take pictures, one of Isabel's biggest nightmares. Jeremy remembered being present when she and Cole had gotten into a small argument over whether or not they'd be putting up curtains. Cole hated the idea of blinds or curtains but he'd lost that battle quickly.

He rummaged around their fridge and grabbed some yogurt as breakfast. As he was eating it, Isabel walked into the room. Despite just having woken up, she still looked like she'd walked off the set of a fashion magazine. Her blonde hair, which had grown out very quickly and now reached her mid-back, was tousled. She wore pajama pants and a crop top that looked like a well-thought out fashion choice instead of the clothes she'd slept in. She was the kind of beautiful that was unreachable. It was part of the reason, Jeremy was sure, Cole had fallen for her to begin with. "Good morning," Jeremy greeted. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, her eyes piercing him for a long time before she spoke.

"You're not going to break down crying, are you?" she asked in her usual challenging manner. Isabel wasn't the one to go to for a shoulder to cry on which served him well at the moment. He grinned, shaking his head. "Good," she said with finality, "because she wouldn't be worth it."

They stared at each other for a while. Jeremy decided that was her own way of trying to make him feel better about the entire thing. "Thanks," he finally said, unsure. She shrugged, taking a spoon out of one of the drawers and digging it into the yogurt he had in his hands after she'd sat on the counter. They ate in silence until Cole came running down, yawning but looking alert. Jeremy was sure Cole had slept as much as he had but somehow he still managed to act as though he'd slept for hours. Touring had, essentially, fucked both of their sleeping habits beyond repair.

Cole was grinning when he walked in on them. "What's the way?" he asked before kissing Isabel deeply. She couldn't help but grin back at him. For a moment, Jeremy couldn't help but feel like he didn't belong in this moment. It was too personal for him to be here, though he was sure that Cole and Isabel didn't feel that way. He put the yogurt down beside them.

"I have some stuff to take care of."

Cole sat on the counter beside Isabel, sharing her spoon.

"As long as you're not late for your party," Isabel told him, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Cole pouted.

"You guys don't have to throw me a party," Jeremy said quickly.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Please. You need it more than anyone right now."

"Besides," Cole said, taking the spoon from her, "the last time we had human contact was the house warming. It's starting to get quiet around here."

Jeremy began to object but stopped himself when he realized that the choice had already been made. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed. He left only after Cole and Isabel had begun to forget that there was someone there, grabbing his leather jacket along the way.

NARKOTICA had ended, technically speaking. They didn't even go by the same name anymore but that didn't mean they were immune to the fame that had once made them what they were. Their new band was doing well enough to sell but this time they'd been careful about the lime-light. This time, they weren't just reckless kids who had nothing to lose and everything to gain, not like when they'd first begun. Still, NARKOTICA had left behind a mark to the people who so feverishly followed it and Jeremy was beginning to see that now that he was walking around on his own. He'd been stopped a couple of times, mostly by girls who wanted to take pictures with him. At first he thought he was imagining the whispering and looks he was getting but, more than once now, he'd caught people trying to sneak pictures of him, nervously trying to hide it when he turned to look at them.

This was the part he didn't miss.

Unlike Cole, this kind of attention had never appealed much to him. If anything, this kind of attention had been the worst part of it all. He'd always been the worst when it came to interviews and his days had been spent smoking pot just to take the edge of being around too many people off. His anxiety had never been stronger than those days on tour around big crowds and people that didn't care too much about anything. All of it had been too exhausting for him; if it hadn't been for the music, he would have stopped.

He grabbed a smooth pebble and threw it at the water, watching it skip before it sank.

He'd never really needed drugs, not in the same way that Cole had needed it before a show, when things got bad, when he wanted to have fun but couldn't get out of his own head. The problem with Cole had always been that he couldn't get out of his own head; every problem was too big, every emotion too strong. The problem with Victor had been that all he'd ever wanted to do was have fun without consequences; every problem was no problem and every emotion wasn't strong enough.

Jeremy had never needed anything like that; but, he wasn't immune to it, either. Drugs were always there, always available when nothing else was. They were at every party, at every concert. They were hidden in the bras of dedicated fans and the pockets and purses of famous and rising stars. But Jeremy had never avoided the problems by just going away. He took the punches as they came. He'd realized, early on, that he had to ground himself because it was too easy to get swept away. He'd learned to have fun without always being drunk or high.

He took a deep breath and let it out. He wouldn't mind _something_ to take the edge off now, though.

"Nice day, eh?" an older man asked as he sat down next to Jeremy.

"Yes, sir. Always, in California," Jeremy smiled in his usually relaxed way.

There was a long silence. Although neither of them was saying anything, Jeremy was sure that the man was inspecting him. He turned to look and, sure enough, the man looked away as soon as he did, acting very interested in a palm tree.

"This place is nice," he said awkwardly. Jeremy nodded.

"It is," he concurred, amused despite himself.

There was another long silence. "So, uh... are you an actor or something?" the man finally asked. Jeremy shook his head, unable to not smile.

"No, sir. I'm a musician."

He nodded though Jeremy could sense the slightest bit of disappointment as the man realized he didn't recognize him after all. "Musician, eh?" Jeremy nodded, grabbing another pebble and watching it skip. "You famous?" he asked.

Jeremy actually laughed at this. "No, sir. If I was, I'm sure you'd recognize me."

This seemed to be a good enough answer as silence settled again. The man took out a book and was reading when Jeremy turned and spotted a group of teenaged girls across the street that were eyeing him the same way cats would eye a laser before pouncing. When they saw him looking at them, their eyes seemed to light up as they smiled widely. As quickly as he could, he grabbed his jacket and made him way to his truck.

The sun was just beginning to set as he left. The passenger's side seat of his truck was filled with bags full of clothes and Ramen Noodles because he hadn't actually felt like buying anything where he'd have to put any effort into cooking, not that he was good at cooking to begin with. He wasn't exactly health-conscious, regardless.

There was a loud DING as he drove in silence; he'd forgotten he had his phone. It begun to ring and he answered it. "What's the way?" he asked, knowing it was Cole.

"Your bachelor party is in motion, my friend. Where are you?"

"Isn't that for people who are getting married?" Jeremy asked after a small silence.

Cole paused for a while. "No. Isn't that someone who isn't married? Or someone with a college degree or something? Well, in this case, you are the bachelor and you, my friend, have a buffet of beauty to pick out from tonight. I'm talking fame and glory, my friend."

"I really don't need fame and glory right now, Cole."

"Well, listen, you're going to need some kind of hole to stop brooding."

"I'm not brooding."

"You're brooding. You're the broodiest brooder of all the brooders. Get over here, ja? It's your party."

With that, Cole hung up the phone.

The sun had set by the time Jeremy pulled into Cole's driveway and sighed loudly. The driveway and lawn were littered with cars. Inside the house, he could see strobe lights and music was already blaring. Jeremy rubbed his chin. "Christ," he mumbled, looking ahead of him. He pulled out his phone, which was filled with text messages and notifications.

He stopped scrolling through them when he saw one in particular that caught his eyes.

Star: Can we please talk? I love you.

He stared blankly at the phone in his hand, unable to look away from it while not really looking at it. There was a feeling that began to surge up in him as he looked at the text. He hadn't felt it in a while and he hadn't expected to feel it now, but he did.

Anger.

It wasn't just anger, though. There were other feelings there, too, but anger was the stronger of them all. He almost answered the text, but he didn't know what to say and he tried never to speak out of anger or spite. He was feeling both ways right now.

He put his phone in his pocket, starring at the house.

Tonight wasn't such a bad night for a party after all.

Walking into the living room was almost like walking into the past. It was a scene he'd visited too many times already. There was just barely enough room to walk; making his way through the crowd meant contact with someone else. He didn't truly know half the people that were there though, of course, Jeremy assumed that was the point seeing as though there were girls everywhere. Some people were dancing, some were already drunk off their asses. Others were on the couch or just lying on the stairs, clumsily grabbing on to each other and somehow he knew this wasn't the most of it. This was just he beginning of every party thrown by Cole, ever.

He saw Leyla smoking pot by the counter and made his way over to her, since she was the only one he recognized. Before he could reach her, he was thwarted by two girls groping each other and slamming into the counter. Leyla looked up with bot her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline and Jeremy couldn't help but laugh. She noticed him and nodded, tearing her eyes away from the girls who were now exposing things that people who weren't completely high might find indecent.

"And this is just the beginning, yeah?" Leyla asked him when he came over. He grinned, nodding. Without even thinking about it, she handed him the joint she'd just rolled up. He looked at it for a second, unsure, but then gave in and took it, holding it awkwardly. "If you're going to waste my spliff," Leyla started but she was lighting it and he took a drag without thinking too much about it. He went o the fridge, which was now fully stocked with beer and alcohols of all kinds. He took out a beer, opening it against the counter.

"Want one?" he asked Leyla, who was now rolling up another join for herself.

"I'm good," she finished, holding it up. "No one ever told me what they occasion was."

Jeremy smiled. "I got cheated on."

Leyla nodded but didn't seem to sympathetic about the situation. "Cheers, man," she told him with a shrug. "To moving on with your life, then?" He nodded, raising his beer.

It was only a couple of hours later that Cole showed up and, by that time, Jeremy as drunk. Cole, surprisingly, was more sober than he was. Cole grinned when he found him leaning against the counter by himself, staring at his cup. "Not the kind of glory I was talking about, Jeremy," he laughed. Jeremy smiled when he looked at him, almost barely registering the words. He ran a hand through his hair.

"I don' think this was a good idea," he laughed.

Cole was grinning. "This was the best idea."

But Jeremy shook his head, unsure of what the idea was anymore, exactly. "Kind of feels like old times," is what he finally said. Cole's smile faltered just for a second and he looked around and Jeremy could understand what he was looking around for. Somehow, Cole still expected for Victor to just appear out of thin air and be there with them, just like old times. For some reason, Jeremy found himself laughing at that and wrapped his hand around Cole's neck.

The party had gotten much more risque but Jeremy just didn't mind as much anymore. All he could see were a blur of lights and bodies, the music pounding. He could smell only the strong smell of lit joints that intermingled with the sweat and alcohol. No one here was sober (except maybe Cole, ironically).

 _Well, why the fuck not?_ was all Jeremy could find himself thinking as he stared hazily at a girl sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth and staring down at her hands. Everything was fine, he kept promising himself, but every once in a while his mind would keep going back to that text and he'd grab another drink, unsure of what it was, exactly.

"You're gonna have one hell of a fucking hang over, my friend. And here I thought that was my job," Cole was saying over the music. Jeremy could only laugh at that. "You gonna hook up or what?"

Jeremy saw that he was nodding toward some random girl dressed in a leather black dress. She looked beautiful and dangerous, her eyes painted as dark as her hair. It was, Jeremy dared to say, the shortest dress he'd seen all night. Still, he looked away and shook his head. There were odd moments of clarity in which the party wasn't so glamorous after all, though the hazy moments made him forget that. Now, however, he was in one of the sobering clarity phases.

"I think I'm turning in," he grinned instead, swaying a little.

"You serious?" Cole asked, his face grave. Jeremy was about to answer when a very drunk Isabel materialized out of nowhere, grabbing him and yanking him away to kiss him, to which Cole did not object in the slightest. He spared a glance back at Jeremy, pulling away for one second like he was going to say something, before Isabel attacked his mouth again. Jeremy laughed, making his way through he crowd again and trying to find the hallway that led to his room.

The strobe lights and all of the dark clothes were almost disorienting, but he finally found himself stumbling through the hall, which was far enough away from the rest of the house that the music wasn't as loud.

Had he left the lights on? he asked himself as he opened the door, stumbling in. "Fuck," he groaned. Being away from the music and the smoke, he was now sure he'd come to regret this tomorrow. If anything, he was already regretting it. Emotions and drugs were a dangerous mix. He turned at a sound he thought he'd heard. It took him a while for his eyes to finally focus on the source of it and even then he wasn't sure what he was looking at for a while.

"Hey," he slurred slightly, thinking that maybe he was looking at some kind of drunk hallucination or, at least, someone who was dangerously out of place in this environment. The girl had gotten up from the edge of his mattress on the floor, staring wide-eyed at him. "Sorry, but this isn't part of the party area," he heard himself saying.

"Sorry," he heard her answer back, her voice soft but clear. He could only stare at her, partly trying to make sense of what she was doing there looking like that. She looked familiar to him but he couldn't really place where he'd seen her before. She had short, curled light brown hair and stood with the uncertainty of someone young that wasn't just yet comfortable with their place in the world. She was wearing a white dress with red floral print on it. Everything in her posture told him that he'd been staring at her too long. He looked into her large honey eyes.

"It's just... my room," he said stupidly. "Are you, uh, lost or something?"

She looked embarrassed as she shook her heard vigorously. She glanced at the door nervously like the idea of going back out there was the only thing worse than staying in here. "Sorry," she said again, tugging down at her dress.

"You look... You get... Are your parents here?" he stumbled over his words and watched as she turned an interesting shade of red. He ran a hand through his hair, which he realized was longer than hers and had somehow become loose from the bun he'd thrown it in before leaving.

"I'm nineteen," she said just as softly and unsure, though he sensed just a hint of insult. He stared at her still, unsure whether or not she was telling the truth. He decided to just settle for nodding; there was no way he'd actually be able to tell right now, regardless.

"Right," he finally agreed.

"I'm... I'll leave," she said, still glancing nervously toward the door.

He smiled. "Not into the party, huh?" he asked. She shifted uncomfortably.

"No, not really," she said after a while.

He stumbled over to the mattress and threw himself on it. "Right. Me neither." He turned, looking up at her. "You can stay if you want. I promise I won't touch you." She seemed to consider this for a very long time until she finally sat down beside him, still seeming to want to keep as much distance as was possible between them.

"Thanks," she said.

They were quiet for a while. He felt the mattress shift and turn as she lie down beside him. He turned to look at her as she looked at the ceiling, still seeming uncomfortable and like she wanted nothing more than to disappear. There was a look in her eye of immediately regretting her decision to lie down but she stuck to it, which Jeremy couldn't explain why he found it so amusing. She shifted a little, seemed to consider sitting up again, but ended up just staying in the same position. They lie there for a while until Jeremy had almost forgotten she was there and begun taking his shirt off. When he looked at her, she was looking away toward the kitchen but he was sure she was flustered. "It's hot in here," he explained for the sake of not coming off like some kind of pervert. He stood, mumbling fuck and walking over to the kitchen, running the water an drinking it directly. "So why'd you end up over here?" he asked.

"Some-" she cleared her throat, "-someone grabbed my butt."

He laughed which resulted in water getting into his nose which ended up with him trying to laugh while coughing heavily. "Someone grabbed your butt?" he laughed when he finally composed himself. "That's why you don't wear little dresses to rock star parties." He'd said it jokingly but he saw that she looked mortified when he looked back at her. He stopped the water, not drunk enough to not feel like a complete asshole for saying something that stupid; it wasn't her fault if some asshole had decided to touch any part of her body without her wanting to.

"There's nothing wrong with it," he said stupidly, "just don't do it again if you don't want to be touched."

He stopped when he realized how much worse that actually sounded, which if he wasn't so high wouldn't have been that long.

"Um... oh," was all she said.

He opened one of the cabinets and took out one of the glasses in there, filling it and handing it to her before he lie back down and turned to look at her. "I'm not saying it's right. Whoever touched you without you letting them's an asshole. But... assholes are everywhere." She nodded, looking at the glass in her hand as she did. "Should learn how to punch," he mumbling, closing his eyes. She stared at him like the idea was crazy but he just smiled. Take a class or something. I don't condone violence but anyone who hurts you should always be punched right in the face. Remember that."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I had to re upload this; it kept showing up all funky on my computer (sorry to anyone who was having any issues reading it as well). My goal is to complete this story; I can't promise when I'll be done with it or when I'll be posting new chapters, although I hope that I've completed it by the end of this year. Unfortunately, however, I am very busy and my schedule is pretty hectic. Still, I hope that you can be patient with me and enjoy reading it. My purpose in writing this story was really to get in some practice and get better as a writer so if you have any helpful critique, feel free to share it :)


	4. Chapter 3

He was aware of his head pounding long before he could even manage to force his eyes open. He hadn't actually thought he'd drunk enough to have a hangover but he'd been terribly, painfully wrong. When his eyes finally did open, he thought he'd died and gone to hell's version of heaven; the light filtering in through the curtains glass doors that led to the pool was too bright to be healthy for any living creature. "Christ," he mumbled as the pounding in his head began. His throat was painfully dry and as soon as he was able to sit up, which he'd done too quickly anyway, he had to lie right back down with elaborate slowness. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep breaths but unable to ignore the headache. Everything was so silent that it was almost as though there had never been people or music here to begin with.

It took him a while before he was vaguely aware of something warm and soft against his arm. He didn't move but it still took him a while to realize that it was a person breathing slowly and evenly. His fingers unconsciously moved against whoever it was as her tried to remember who it could be but his thoughts were going nowhere so he had to force his eyes open and turn his head to look beside him after he sat up much more carefully.

The first thing his sensitive eyes settled on were a peek of the most childish underwear he had ever laid eyes on. They were pink and white with yellow lace that hugged a pretty firm, round butt. He groaned, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he was seeing properly. When he realized that he was, he was even more confused. He didn't _feel_ like he'd had sex with anyone last night and he definitely didn't remember bringing anyone into the room with him. Fairly, though, he barely remembered much. Last night was a mixture of random scenes that flashed through his mind but mostly those memories had black slots in them.

There were pink cats on her underwear. Had he slept with someone that had pink cats on their underwear? He'd never thought, even drunk, he'd be that kind of person. Then it hit him that the girl sleeping beside him still had all of her clothes on and he had his clothes on and there was no way he'd done anything. Her floral print dress had climbed up past her waist and she was tangled into the sheets like she'd gotten into a fight with them during the night and they'd won. He pulled the dress down the most he could without rousing her. Absent-mindedly, he ran his fingers down her arm, stopping only when he realized what he was doing. Her short, honey-colored hair was a mess around her young, sun-kissed face. He was sure she was drooling on his pillow.

He'd managed to get up to fill a glass of water from the tap when Isabel burst in looking wild and beautiful and, to his great surprise, worried beyond measure. "Is Sofia here?" she asked with uncharacteristic emotion. Jeremy stared at her. Her blonde hair was messy, too, her mascara was smeared and she was still in last night's clothes but she still made it look like it was all on purpose. Her eyes fell on Sofia and she looked like the weight of the word had been lifted off of her shoulders. Then, slowly, her usual calculated indifference transformed her face except for a questioning look that appeared when she looked back up at Jeremy, probably thinking the same thing he'd thought when he'd woken.

"Good morning to you, too," Jeremy responded groggily as he stared at the girl now squirming a little on his mattress. Her dress was beginning to sneak up again. _Sofia,_ he thought, rattling his head until he recalled she was Sofia's cousin. He'd met her once when they'd all gone out together and she'd had a complete panic attack, which he'd help her overcome. Isabel was semi-glaring at him as though silently accusing him of something even though he was sure she knew nothing had happened. It was more of a warning for the future than anything else. Really, she had nothing to worry about; it's not like he was planning on jumping into anything anytime soon and definitely not with someone who had cats on her underwear. The idea was preposterous. He just stared at her, giving her the same long, slow blink she liked to use so much on other. She rolled her eyes and couldn't help but smile.

"How much did you drink last night?" she asked him, walking closer to the mattress and looking Sofia over. Then she looked back at him. "You look like shit took a shit on you." Jeremy gave her his lazy smile which was probably even more lazy now that he actually did feel like shit had taken a shit on him.

"Thank you. And you look beautiful, as always."

He gulped down the water, walking back to the mattress and sitting. Between them, Sofia moaned a little. Her eyes were still closed but she was facing him. She definitely was drooling but he was too hungover to be either amused or a bit grossed out. He sat next to her and pulled her dress back down.

"You didn't even stay that long," Isabel was complaining without sounding like she was complaining. He'd completely missed the rest of what she'd been saying.

"You guys didn't seem to mind," he told her. One of the things he did remember from the party was catching a glimpse of Cole and Isabel really going at it on the couch. Isabel shrugged at that. She was about to respond when Sofia opened her large, light brown eyes, which were looking right into Jeremy's. She then turned and looked at Isabel, who looked annoyed beyond reasoning.

"Please don't tell me you came in here to hide," was the first thing she said. He was sure that she hadn't yelled it but for all he could really tell, she might as well have been screaming. Jeremy was momentarily sure he'd felt his brain smashing itself against the sides of his skull.

"God, Isabel, please," he managed to groan.

"You do realize that I brought you to the party to, you know… party?" she continued, ignoring him altogether.

"I partied," Sofia answered in what would have been a defensive way were her voice not so soft, for which Jeremy was eternally grateful. He couldn't handle too much noise right now.

"I think I'm dying," he mumbled, lying face down.

"Did you even drink?" Isabel demanded, ignoring him.

Jeremy snorted. "Her not drinking is probably not something you should be upset about," he mumbled but of course Isabel caught that. Sofia looked at him like he'd hurt her feelings.

"I drank," she said though Jeremy was sure she was talking about water but he didn't say anything.

"What, water?" Isabel asked. There was no answer and she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm taking you home. Your mother probably thinks I let you drown in the pool or something."

Sofia yawned, getting up out of bed slowly. Jeremy had laid back down. He'd thought they'd left but then he could have sworn her heard something and turned his head to find Sofia standing before him. She had nice, long legs. She had a dancer's body even though she didn't look like the kind of girl that would dance.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you want me to make you some soup?" she asked again.

"Seriously?" Isabel asked, exasperated.

Jeremy looked at her carefully.

There was something childish about Sofia, the insecurity of someone who hadn't quite figured out how to stand in their own skin. There was a need to please everyone, a need for perfection; but there was something else there, also; something that only someone who'd seen it for most of their lives would be able to discern. Where Cole and Victor's loneliness had led them into a world of confusion and chaos, Sofia's loneliness was disguised in a much more dangerous way: it hid under a veil of perfection and order, making it so much easier for it to be overlooked.

"I like soup," Jeremy answered. Isabel rolled her eyes behind Sofia. She groaned loudly.

"Fine. Make your soup but at least call your mom first so she won't think we drowned you in the pool or something," she said as she walked away.

* * *

"All you had to do was make soup. You know that, right?" Isabel was saying but Sofia ignored her.

"All you have is pizza and pasta," Sofia commented as she added some of the groceries Cole had just bought to their pasta-filled fridge. They didn't have one thing in their fridge that offered any real nutrition.

"We like to change up our empty calories," Cole responded as he made his way over to Isabel and kissed her deeply, to which Isabel smiled.

Sofia looked away, staring intently into the fridge. The soup was almost done and she and a very annoyed and reluctant Isabel had finished saving the house from the mess last night's party had left behind. "You don't have to clean, you're not our maid!" Isabel had attempted to argue but had ultimately ended up helping her.

Sofia spared a glance at Isabel and Cole. Neither of them understood that she _had_ to be doing something. She just wanted to be busy; it kept her safe from her own mind. That was what she couldn't explain to Isabel because what was the point of explaining insignificant problems? There were people that had worse things going on than a mom who expected too much and a father who was off somewhere building a different family to replace the previous one. She sighed deeply, finally being able to turn to look at Isabel and Cole, who were making out a little less playfully now. The world could be falling apart around them and they wouldn't notice it.

She went to stand before the pot, her back to them. She began to stir the soup, her mind wandering back to last night's party. She felt out of place often but she'd never felt as out of place as she had last night, surrounded by people dressed in black and wearing heels and women that were so beautiful Sofia was surprised they weren't photoshopped. She'd just stood there, lost and awkward and wearing a stupid flower-print dress because she didn't own anything black or sexy and no one ever expected her to be sexy anyway. Everyone had been drunk or high, which Sofia couldn't understand. The only thing she disliked more than being around too many people was feeling like she was loosing control and absolutely nothing had been under control last night. Then had come the most terrifying part, more terrifying than having her butt squeezed by someone whose face she hadn't even seen, more terrifying than the mess of bodies jumping and grinding and screaming and falling.

It was the feeling that, despite being surrounded by people, she'd felt completely alone, like there was a wall there that just wouldn't let her reach out to touch anyone else. It kept her protected, it had for years; but now no one could reach out to touch her either.

Except for the guy who'd grabbed her butt. He'd reached out.

She screamed, jumping back, away from the stove. "What did you do?" Isabel demanded, already walking over and taking her hand. "Jesus Christ, Sofia," she frowned as she reprimanded her like she was a kid. Then she took off upstairs.

"S-sorry," she said to no one but Isabel heard her.

"Stop apologizing!" she yelled back. Cole walked over, grabbing her hand gently and examining it. To her embarrassment, he opened her palm toward his face and kissed it. Then he winked and a huge grin spread across his face and Sofia couldn't help but smile. She liked Cole and she liked Isabel with Cole. They worked well together; they made each other happy. Being with Cole had made Isabel more caring in her own blunt way.

Her hand was throbbing even more painfully by the time Isabel came down with a white bottle that she slathered onto Sofia's palm. "It's not that bad," she was trying to tell Isabel but Isabel just looked progressively more annoyed so she kept her mouth shut. She wanted to say the soup was done but she didn't want to make Isabel angry so she didn't. "Ow," she hissed when Isabel started wrapping her hand too tightly.

"I'll do that," a very groggy voice spoke up. Sofia turned to find Jeremy standing there, scratching his head.

He was beautiful.

She'd thought so the first time she'd seen him. It was probably the first time that she'd accidentally blurted anything out but she didn't think Isabel had caught it— she'd been too busy looking at Cole.

She'd forgotten Jeremy, though, and she was sure he'd forgotten her. She hoped he'd forgotten her. The last time they'd met she'd had a panic attack and made herself look stupid, which wasn't exactly rare when she was around people, when there was silence, when she wasn't doing anything.

"You're gonna cut off her circulation," Jeremy commented in a way that didn't sound like he was accusing her of anything. He walked over, took the gauze from Isabel gently and took her place gently and unwrapped what she'd done gently and then began to wrap it again. He'd taken a bath and smelled like cinnamon or something like it. His hair was loose and Sofia noticed it was longer than her shoulder-length cut. There was stubble growing but it was so light it was difficult to see unless you were close to him. His fingers were long and straight as they held her hand.

"The soup's done," she said stupidly when he was done, looking into his vivid blue eyes made only more vivid because they were still pretty bloodshot. He looked confused at first but then he just smiled his kind smile.

"Thanks," he told her.

"You know what goes great with soup?" Cole asked suddenly.

"He's going to say fort," Jeremy sighed heavily.

"Fort!" Cole yelled.

"Now we can't eat until we help him build a fort."

"We won't eat until we have built the best fort mankind has ever seen!" Cole exclaimed dramatically.

It didn't take long for him to go upstairs. He stood at the railing upstairs and began throwing down all of the pillows and covers they owned. Sofia was exempt from helping only because her and was burned but Jeremy and Isabel were rearranging the furniture. It took them a while but they figured it out and, before she knew it, Sofia was standing in front of a fort that resembled the room where Jeremy was sleeping.

"I don't think we should eat in here. What if the sheets get dirty?" Sofia asked. If that had been done in her house, her mom would have evacuated them from it.

"Who cares?" Isabel asked, throwing herself on the cushions. Jeremy was lying comfortably beside her and she wrapped her arms around him comfortably. Sofia didn't know how she did it, Cole came back with two bowls of soup, which he handed over to them after they'd sat up. Jeremy moved aside to let Cole sit between him and Isabel.

"Thanks, babe," Jeremy told him.

"Anything for you, my beautiful sunflower," Cole answered, dramatically batting his eyelashes before he left. He came back with two more bowls and stood beside her. "I mean… you gonna get in or are you that scared of getting the covers dirty?"

Cole brushed past her, sitting beside Isabel. Sofia felt like she'd stood there forever, watching the comfortable way in which they sat together, arms and legs touching. She wasn't sure how she would fit into it. "Are you gonna make me hold this forever?" Cole asked, holding up her bowl. She walked forward and sat down awkwardly next to Jeremy. She made sure no part of her touched anyone and that no one was touching her. They were talking about things that she wasn't actually paying any attention to when she heard her name then a long finger gently poked the white gauze wrapped around her hand, which hadn't stopped stinging. She jumped a little and the smallest amount of soup spilled right onto the sheets.

"Oh no!" Isabel, Cole, and Jeremy were all staring at her. She was sure they were. Her face suddenly felt warm, her heart was beating a little bit faster. "I'm sorry."

"Is your hand OK?" Jeremy asked as though no one had even noticed. She looked up, her hand shaking a little bit. She blinked at him. Cole and Isabel had begun wrapping themselves into each other. She could feel herself breathing a little bit more evenly.

"I just spilled—"

Jeremy shrugged. "It's not a big deal. And you're the one who made it for us. Is your hand feeling any better?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. It's better now."

"Put it on the stove?"

He'd put his plate back down and had laid back but as he'd done so, he'd moved closer to her and his head lay against her crossed leg. His hair was dry now and it was soft and this was really awkward. Was she supposed to… do something?

"I spaced out," she answered softly enough that he might not have heard her. She hoped he hadn't heard her but the look on his face told her otherwise.

"What'd you put in this?" Jeremy asked with a pleased smile on his lips. He'd closed his eyes and Sofia took the time to look him over.

"Just vegetables."

"It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," Jeremy said and just like that he fell asleep with his head resting against her leg.

Within an hour, the only thing asleep about Sofia was her leg, which Jeremy was holding on to as though it was a stuffed animal. Not wanting to wake him, she took out her phone and began working on one of her four blogs. Near by, Cole and Isabel were wrapped up together comfortably, breathing deeply and evenly. There was something odd about watching Cole and Isabel as they slept; it was almost like watching them change skins. Cole, who when awake was so happy and energetic, looked troubled as he slept. Isabel, who always tried her best to look as unapproachable as possible, looked childish and peaceful as she slept. She glanced back down at Jeremy but there was nothing different about him when he slept than when he was awake. He looked just as peaceful and calm, like a blank canvas that couldn't be drawn on.

She was startled when his eyes opened. It took him a while to focus on her then, slowly, he let go, moaning. "Sorry," he told her. She nodded, moving away her leg as he sat up. He looked over at Cole and Isabel as he stretched then he turned back to her.

"What are you writing?"

She stared at him because at first she wasn't sure that he was actually talking to her but he wasn't looking anywhere else. "Just… my blog…" she finished quietly.

"Mmm? What's it about?" he asked.

She put her phone on her lap. No one had actually ever asked her about any of her blogs. Even her mom knew she had one but had no idea or interest in what it was about. It kept her busy and that was all her mother needed to know. "It's just my food blog."

"Food blog?"

He wasn't asking it like he was making fun of her but she still felt her face beginning to get warm. "Yeah. I just put recipes and stuff. I like food and I'm always experimenting with recipes so…" she trailed off, realizing she was babbling. When she looked at Jeremy, he was still paying attention to her. "I have other blogs, too, though. I don't jus write about food. I do other things." She meant she did other things other than sit behind her computer writing blogs. She was babbling. She wanted to stop babbling but then she looked at him and he was kind of smiling at her. "I have an erhu blog."

His eyes lit up; he looked amused. "Erhu?" he asked.

"It's an instrument," she nodded.

"You play it?" he asked. She nodded. "Play any other instruments?"

"Uh… yeah. The flute and when I was little my mom forced me to take piano and then I learned to play guitar and ukulele. I tried drums once but I was really bad. Like, _really_ bad." She hadn't realized she was smiling until she stopped talking. Jeremy was grinning at her, his blue eyes lighting up as he looked her over.

"That was the best nap I've ever had," Cole yawned loudly. Isabel sat beside him, resting her head on Cole's shoulder. He kissed her head, running a hand down her arm until it found her hand which he also kissed.

"I think I should really take you home now," Isabel yawned. Even her yawn was pretty, Sofia thought, looking down at her feet.

"OK," she agreed.

There were a lot of places where Sofia didn't belong and surrounded by rockstars and people that looked like models was probably one of those places.


End file.
